


The Canned Coffee Interludes

by secrettemplars (tricycleamoving)



Series: walking, not falling [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Agender Akashi, Agender Character, Cats, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Furihata, Other, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-16
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 17:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4146405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricycleamoving/pseuds/secrettemplars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of side-stories that take place during and after the events of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4047013">Canned Coffee and Pencil Lead</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Canned Coffee Interludes

**Author's Note:**

> Oh god, I said I would get this up asap after I finished canned coffee but haha... its been over 2 weeks...
> 
> STILL. I've gotten it finished, and my original one side-story became five orz. So yeah, this will be a five-parter now... I've planned the gist of the last four parts, so all there is left to do is write. Which will happen eventually. I hope.
> 
> Characterisation from the original fic still applies, Akashi is agender (they/them) and Furihata is genderqueer (he/him). 
> 
> Every chapter is basically written to Carly Rae Jepsen's "[I Really Like You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=77PzXCKDyVQ)". 
> 
> Some notes after the fic!

_To: Midorima Shintarou_

_Tell him that I don’t need his help._

The garish lights on the digital clock blink in two-four time signature, the only source of light in the room. Akashi stares at the ceiling, mapping out the cracks and the chipping paint, growing on the wall like curling vines. Their eyes are a little sore, the familiar burn behind them faintly lingering, but still they stare. The blankets are warm (perhaps a little too warm) above their body.

Next to the pillow, their phone vibrates once, twice. Akashi continues to stare.

_From: Midorima Shintarou [UNREAD]_

_I’m not your messenger boy, go tell him that yourself._

_From: Midorima Shintarou [UNREAD]_

_Also, we’re still meeting tomorrow, yes?_

The money had turned up in their bank account without a trace. It infuriates them, the fact that they could run off and hide, far away from their father, and still be reminded of his constant presence in their life. Although Akashi had not made much of an effort to conceal their whereabouts from their father, they had at least expected for him to respect their choice and let them sever their ties neatly. Akashi Masaomi was not a very generous man, nor one particularly tied down by sentiment, so his attempts at reaching out to them were… unexpected.

Perhaps their understanding of their father was not so perfect, after all.

_Beep! Beep!_

Their alarm chirps, the digits on the clock striking eleven-thirty in the morning, and a hand moves to turn it off right after the fourth beep, like clockwork. Akashi rolls over and picks up their phone again, pursing their lips as they read over Midorima’s replies. They take a moment to punch in a quick reply (their text exchanges were always short and to the point; more… sentimental matters were best discussed in person), before placing it back on the bedside table and graciously (as well as very literally) rolling off the bed.

The floor is rather cold, pressed against their cheek.

_To: Midorima Shintarou_

_Duly noted. Also yes, I’ll try not to be late this time._

Their phone buzzes one last time, but it is only when the cold fades away and gives way to a sticky, almost lukewarm feeling that they finally peel themselves off the floor and get to their feet. Truthfully, they had no real business to attend to at the moment, but it was almost habit to wake up at eleven-thirty by now, and the bed was no more comforting than the floor was.

Shuffling to the bathroom, Akashi Seijuurou wipes the last vestiges of attempted sleep from their eyes, and makes a note to invest in some Ambien.

Perhaps some lunch would make things easier.

 

* * *

 

Wandering around the bustling city was not a privilege they once were able to have.

Now though, with them working the night shift and having no other obligations outside of that, it seemed that they had all the time in the world. It was always interesting to stroll around, watching others frantically run from offices into restaurants into offices again. Once upon a time, this was their life. Even now, it was still weird to see it from such a removed lens.

It is amidst the lunchtime rush that Akashi eventually spots him.

Sitting alone on a bench under a particularly shady tree was Furihata, glancing nervously at his phone all the while. For a moment, Akashi debated approaching the artist. They’d never met in person outside of the convenience store before, so to see him in such a… significantly different environment was slightly nerve-wracking, to say the least. It would be easy to keep things between them as they were, to pretend they never saw Furihata and stride off in the other direction, but there was something about the artist that led their footsteps right towards him. Perhaps it was the lonely slope of his hunched shoulders, or the way he constantly fiddled with his phone; Either way, Akashi soon found themselves making a beeline towards the artist, as if Furihata were some sort of magnet, constantly pulling at their heartstrings of steel.

“Hey,” Akashi says. They don’t really know what else to say.

“Oh, hey!” Furihata replies, brightening up immediately before his eyes widen, “You’re not wearing your uniform.”

“Am I… supposed to be?” Akashi asks, tilting their head. It was a rather odd question to ask, since they weren’t working right now. Then again, it’s not like Furihata ever saw them out of the uniform before, “Do you want me to be?”

“No!” Furihata blurts out, before waving his hands around in embarrassment, cheeks practically almost glowing, “I mean. Uh, you look fine. Like this. This is good. Oh god please pretend I never said that.”

Feeling equal parts amusement and confusion at the artist’s outburst, Akashi reckoned they should just change the subject to prevent him from turning any redder.

“Are you waiting for someone?” they opt to ask instead, before moving to sit down next to him.

“Just the boyfriend,” Furihata replies, his flustered demeanor deflating as he fiddles with his fingers, “We were supposed to grab some lunch together, but he hasn’t showed yet…“

“Huh,” Akashi says, taking note of the way Furihata swung his legs, as if filled with some impatient energy, “How long have you been sitting here?”

“Around… half an hour?” Furihata replies, before startling at their raised eyebrows and shaking his head, “Ah, don’t look like that! He’s usually never this late… something must’ve come up at school or something. It’s fine, I don’t mind waiting.”

“I’ll wait with you then,” Akashi says, brushing some imaginary dust off their lap, “You look like you could use some company.”

“No it’s fine!” Furihata blurts out, “I mean, er, I don’t want to keep you from doing your thing, and plus he kinda gets a bit… _y’know_ , if he sees me with someone else.”

“I don’t really have anything to do,” Akashi replies, before shooting Furihata a pointed look, “Plus, I don’t see why he should have a problem with you talking to your friend. He’s the one who’s thirty minutes late, not you. You don’t owe him anything.”

“True,” Furihata says, fiddling once again before glancing over at Akashi, “But I want him to be happy, y’know?”

“But are _you_ happy with it?” Akashi asks, “It’s no better a relationship if only one person gets what they want.”

“I… I th-” Furihata starts to say, eyes uncertain and lit with a certain intensity, before his phone buzzes in his hands and he moves to check it, “Oh.”

“Is that him?” Akashi asks.

“He just cancelled,” Furihata sighs, “There was an impromptu meeting with the other professors in the department.”

“Ah,” Akashi says in reply, not really knowing how to respond, “That’s… unfortunate.”

“It’s fine, I’ll deal,” Furihata replies, back hunched as he slips his phone into his pocket.

“So,” Akashi says, after a moment of silence, “Now what?”

They suppose that the resoundingly loud growl that escapes Furihata’s tummy answers the question for them.

“Er, we could grab some lunch together?” Furihata asks, sheepishly smiling at them, “I think the restaurant would’ve cancelled my reservation by now, but there should still be someplace else nearby.”

“Sure,” Akashi replies, only getting up from their seat once Furihata does the same, “Lead the way.”

Furihata looks around and seems to pick a direction at random, taking a few steps forward before pausing and turning back to them.

“Wait,” Furihata says, squinting at them with a glint in his eye that particularly concerns Akashi, “Are you free the entire afternoon too?”

“Uh,” Akashi replies, “Yes?”

“Good,” Furihata says, smiling at them, “Since we’re having lunch together, anyway, I think it’s high time you got to meet Akashi Jr, right?”

“Er,” is all Akashi gets to say before Furihata grabs their wrist and leads them off towards a restaurant that caught his eye on his way to meet his boyfriend. The hand around their wrist is warm, and Akashi resigns themself to an afternoon of cat fur stuck to their pants and a night full of lint rollers.

The hand around their wrist tickles slightly, and Akashi tells themself that that is the only reason why they’re smiling.

 

* * *

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea,” Akashi says, hesitantly stepping out of the elevator after Furihata.

“It’s an amazing idea,” Furihata replies, struggling with unlocking the door until it gives way with a _click_ , “She’s been dying to meet you.”

“You… talk to your cat about me?” Akashi says, toeing off their shoes at the entrance.

“Yeah,” Furihata says, before awkwardly turning back to look at them, “Er, sorry, is that weird? I can retract that statement if you want-”

“No,” Akashi replies (and surprisingly they do mean it), “It’s… actually somewhat adorable.”

“Ah, oh, thank you!” Furihata sputters out, quickly turning back to the door and toeing his shoes off, before pushing the door open and hurrying inside, “Akashi!”

“Akashi!” Furihata yells out again, “Where are you!”

“Uhm,” Akashi says, still standing at the door, “I’m right here.”

“No, not _you_ , I mean the other one,” Furihata replies, before waving them in, “Oh, come in already, she’s not gonna bite.”

“You don’t know that,” Akashi says, cautiously walking into the room, one foot in front of the other.

“As her owner, I _definitely_ know that,” Furihata replies, “And close the door behind you, please.”

They close the door behind them.

Akashi Jr turns out to be a ridiculously fluffy and pompous norwegian forest cat, who haughtily trots to Furihata after jumping down from a tall shelf, shedding black fur onto Furihata’s pants as she rubs against his legs. Furihata coos in response, squatting down to pet her and he beckons them over.

“See, she’s perfectly harmless,” Furihata says, running a hand through her fur.

“Does this mean that you think I’m a harmless fluffy cat?” Akashi remarks, shuffling towards the two of them, “Or that I’m capable of mauling an innocent veterinarian?”

“That was _one time_ ,” Furihata replied.

From under Furihata’s fingertips, Akashi Jr. tilts her head towards them and trots over, her yellow eyes unblinking as she approached. They kneel down and stretch out a hand, watching intently as the cat tentatively sniffed at their fingertips, before licking them rather ardently. It vaguely felt like being licked by sandpaper, but a pleasant sort of sandpaper, if that made sense.

With her mind seemingly made up, Akashi Jr. moves to rub against their legs, darting in and out as she meows. Her black fur clings to their grey pants, but all thoughts of lint rollers escape their mind once they start to pet her. The purr is almost instantaneous, as the cat all but melts into their hand, piercing yellow eyes half-closed in a blissful daze.

“Huh, that’s the fastest she’s ever warmed up to someone,” Furihata remarks, staring in amazement, “Even with me.”

“Jealous?” Akashi asks, lips curled into a teasing smile as they continued to pet their namesake.

“Pft,” Furihata snorts, hiding a smile, “Not at all.”

Akashi Jr. meows again, before dropping down to the floor and rolling around, exposing her (ridiculously fluffy) belly to them.

“Okay,” Furihata amends, “Maybe a little bit.”

“Only a little bit?” Akashi asks, because they can’t help but tease Furihata even more. They tentatively move their hand down to rub at the cat’s head.

“Don’t push it, Akashi Seijuurou,” Furihata replies, hands on his hips in faux anger, “You come into _my_ house and steal _my_ fluffy Akashi-”

“It’s not really stealing if she naturally just loves me,” Akashi interrupts, almost preening at the artist while their namesake continues to enjoy their blissful petting session, “It’s just a shame my apartment complex doesn’t allow cats.”

“That means you can’t take Akashi Jr. back home with you,” Furihata says, eyebrows furrowed, “So don’t you even dare.”

“Scout’s honour,” Akashi says. He doesn’t need to look up to see Furihata’s unimpressed face.

“Were you even a scout,” Furihata replies, before kneeling down in front of them and batting their hands away, petting the cat instead, “Whatever, you’ve hogged her for too long. She’s mine now."

“That’s not fair,” Akashi says, frowning as they try to reach a hand out again, only for Furihata to bat their hand away, “You brought me here so I could meet her.”

“Well yeah, but,” Furihata replies, puffing his cheeks as he bats away their hand yet again, “But Akashi’s _my_ cat, so there.”

From beneath their fingertips, Akashi Jr. _mraows_ in displeasure and rolls back up again, choosing to rub her cheek against Akashi’s knees before trotting off, pouncing up another tall shelf. Akashi watches that black tail retreat back into the darkness of the shelf, while Furihata sighs, getting up on his feet.

“And there she goes, unpredictable as ever,” Furihata remarks, dusting the fur off his palms, “Uh, sorry the place is kinda small, but you can go ahead and sit on the sofa? I’ll go get some water for you.”

“Ah, thanks,” Akashi says, watching Furihata retreat into the kitchen before walking towards the aforementioned sofa. The apartment is pretty generously sized for a studio apartment, with enough space to cram a single bed, a small sofa, a tv, a coffee table and a few bookshelves all into one place (that, or Furihata was very adept at room layout design). Their own apartment is still bigger (and emptier), but considering their financial background, that wasn’t really saying much.

The sofa was a ridiculously gaudy shade of mustard yellow (wasn’t Furihata supposed to be an artist? They wonder how he could stand such an offensive piece of furniture), but was still rather comfortable to sit on.

“I wasn’t really expecting anyone to come over today,” Furihata says as he places two clear glasses of water on the coffee table in front of them, “So water’s the best I can offer right now. It’s pretty tasty water, though."

“Water’s fine,” Akashi replies, “Though I don’t understand why you would describe it as ‘tasty’.”

“What, you mean you _don’t_ taste the difference?” Furihata says, as he plops into the seat next to them, “Like… I mean water generally has the same taste, but there are these little differences depending on what type of water and the brand, you know.”

“Such a difference has… never occurred to me,” Akashi replies, blinking at him, “Water is water.”

“You’re weird, Akashi,” Furihata says, turning to face them, “I can’t believe I’m friends with someone who can’t tell the difference between distilled and mineral water.”

“But your cat likes me,” Akashi replies, “That should count for something, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Furihata says, “I suppose Akashi Jr. is a good judge of character. Somewhat.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean,” Akashi says.

“I’m just saying, I named her after you for a reason,” Furihata replies, shrugging while plastering his most innocent expression on his face.

“I’ll stop giving you that employee’s discount at the store if you keep this up, Furihata,” Akashi says, raising an eyebrow.

“Alright, alright, I’ll take it back, I kinda want that ten percent discount,” Furihata replies, raising both of his hands in surrender, “But you gotta tell me what’s going on in exchange.”

“What’s… going on?” Akashi asks, head tilted in confusion.

“I mean, I don’t know if it’s my place to ask or anything but,” Furihata says, scratching at his neck, “Your dark circles are kinda… darker than usual. And just now, over lunch, you were yawning quite a bit. I also just… get the feeling that something’s up? I can’t describe it, I just feel that something’s a bit off with you today.”

“... Ah,” Akashi says.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to!” Furihata splutters out, “But I mean. I meant what I said before. If you wanna talk about that kinda stuff… I’m always here.”

“I… I suppose you’re right,” Akashi says, sighing as they lean back into the sofa, “My father’s been bothering me lately, and I don’t… I don’t think he’s going to stop.”

“Bothering?” Furihata asks.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s not showing up at my doorstep or anything like that, but his presence still haunts me,” Akashi replies, their cheek touching the cool fabric of the sofa as they turn to look at Furihata, “He deposited more money into my personal bank account even though I’m already very financially secure, he’s hiring people to come fix my air conditioning or my washing machine without my consent even though I’ve made it clear enough that I don’t want his help.

“It must sound a bit… spoilt of me. I’m sure anyone else would be glad to have their father give them more money, or fix their things for them, but it just seems like I can’t run away from him, no matter how hard I try.”

It feels slightly better, Akashi must admit, to be able to voice all their concerns to Furihata. As if a weight was lifted off their chest, something inside of them feels a little lighter, a little softer.

“That sounds awful, I’m sorry,” Furihata says, and here Akashi has to avert their eyes, something within them telling them that the sheer amount of raw emotion in Furihata’s eyes was not something they deserved, “I can’t give you any advice, and I don’t think I’m the right person to do so anyway, but I’ll support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“... Thank you, Furihata,” Akashi replies. They don’t know what else to say. It feels like they should say something bigger, do something a bit more, but nothing else comes out of their mouth other than those three words, and they hope that Furihata can understand the sentiment behind it.

“Hey, what are friends for,” Furihata says, smiling gently before reaching down to squeeze their hand with his own.

The silence that follows is interrupted by an errant _mraow_ , and before they can even register anything, a giant black blob of fur claws her way into their lap, curling up into a giant fluffy ball. Akashi Jr’s claws dig into their pants, little striking pinpricks of unwanted pain blooming on their thighs (Furihata laughs, points at them and says, “oh my god, your face, you look _just_ like an electrocuted cat”), but she is still a giant source of warmth on their lap, like a fluffy, cat-sized heater. She purrs when they pet her.

“She really does like you,” Furihata says, and though he’s made the same point before, there’s something about the way he says it now, something softer and gentler and wondrous, as if this was something bigger than just a cat and a convenience store worker.

Akashi says nothing, only letting the smallest of smiles show on their face as they pet their namesake, not caring one bit about the black fur sticking to the edges of his dress shirt.

“Oh, bathroom break,” Furihata says (and they can feel Furihata’s weight leaving the sofa when he stands), “I’ll be right back.”

There was a study once, Akashi distinctly remembers, that claimed that petting cats and dogs helped release endorphins in the body. They had been skeptical at first, but perhaps it really was true. Sure, it wasn’t as if they could pet away all their frustrations through this cat, but already they felt… at home, almost. Their namesake was soft beneath their hands, her purrs calming in a peculiar way, and though the gaudy sofa wasn’t as soft as their bed, it was oddly still better.

They can’t help but let their eyelids droop, eyes still burning with the fatigue that comes with sleep deprivation.

 _Just for a second_ , Akashi tells themself.

They close their eyes.

 

* * *

 

When Furihata walks back to the sofa, Akashi is sound asleep.

Doing the best he can to tiptoe silently towards the sofa, he quietly slides into his usual seat. In Akashi’s lap, his cat lies curled up, as fast asleep as her namesake. Furihata sighs: Akashi really mustn't have slept well last night if they fell asleep so quickly (and on this horribly coloured antique of a sofa too).

Quickly glancing at his clock, Furihata comes to the conclusion that it was best that he didn’t try to wake the runaway convenience store worker: their shift wasn’t until much later, and with all that they’ve been through so far, Furihata thinks they deserve a nap. Like this, Furihata thinks, Akashi looks years younger, all the stress gone from their face, soft and happy and relaxed.

It’s a look Furihata wishes Akashi could have while they were awake, too.

It’s four in the afternoon, rays of sunlight peeking through the translucent curtains at the window, mingling with the shadows on the wall. The sound of traffic outside is not overly deafening, for once: instead it is like a gentle hum, akin to white static and background noise. It is, perhaps, Furihata thinks, time for a nap as well.

Slowly lowering his head sideways until it gently rests on the curve of Akashi’s shoulder, the fabric of their dress shirt soft under his cheek, Furihata smiles, and closes his eyes.

It’s warm.

**Author's Note:**

> whoo we made it here's some notes:
> 
> 1\. Akashi Jr. is a [norwegian forest cat](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/b8/c0/d0/b8c0d04507538a623498f3ca93452c72.jpg). Super floofy and also rly pompous lmao. Norwegian forest cats are also very good climbers and have really strong claws so like... rip the vet tbh. 
> 
> 2\. ~~the vet is kagami~~ psh ok nah that's not happening i mean the poor man's scared of dogs i don't think that's rly plausible. In other news, please look at [Akashi's face in this picture](http://38.media.tumblr.com/06c65072cede42856bec9fe6093fe756/tumblr_inline_nge3x2CHib1sc41de.jpg) and then look at the picture of the cat. They are one and the same. 
> 
> 3\. About Masaomi: I suppose it's this weird _thing_ where like. Masaomi knows that Akashi has run away, that they don't want to be part of the Akashi family at all, but because they're not hiding their identity (aka the name is unchanged, bank accounts are still the same, they're just not living with Masaomi anymore) he knows where Akashi generally is, where they live, etc. It's... really not an ideal setup for both of them, and with Midorima playing the unwilling middle man it's just a very complicated scenario. Don't worry I'll talk more about this in another chapter.
> 
> 4\. Oh yeah i forgot, this fic takes place during Canned Coffee, sometime after Furihata tells Akashi about his cat and Akashi tells Furihata about their dad, but before the last bit of the fic happens, of course.


End file.
